free to think free to disagree to argue to hold different beliefs free even to believe that which is dangerous which leads to cracks in the bedrock to weakness in the foundations and how do we repair the cracks rebuild without restricting thought without creating limits we hoped weren’t necessary we believed in the inalienable nature of us until someone took a hammer a mallet a bulldozer to the Constitution and we found our crash barriers our asphalt streets the integrity of our highways was no more than a handshake a promise an agreement as easily torn and tossed aside as tissue paper—yes—ours was a paper house, not even glass, though we did not know it.
I suppose there are thanks to be given for showing us the flaws.
Soon, we will meditate and debate how to fix
our broken country, how to reassemble
our best selves. This will be
a long conversation, cousins.
Strap in.
by Gale Naylor
Poetry by Gale 